


All for One, One for All

by jusrecht



Category: Korean Actor RPF, Super Junior
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-25
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-03-15 04:49:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3434162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jusrecht/pseuds/jusrecht
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was stupidity, and then there was a voluntary dive into the bottomless abyss of stupidity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY ;_;

There was stupidity, and then there was a voluntary dive into the bottomless abyss of stupidity.

After the sixth time it had happened, Kyuhyun ceased thinking about it as anything but _it_. Something that simply happened. A force of the moment. One hell mess of an effect with myriads of hazy, ambiguous causes behind it.

The rest was irrelevant. 

It was always hotel rooms, all barren and soulless. Here, they had no need for identities, every trapping shed and discarded outside the door. Sometimes they took turns. Sometimes they went at him all at once. All for one, one for all, and all that cliché. Kyuhyun vaguely remembered someone’s saying it, Gunmyung-hyung maybe, but in the thick haze of having more than one cock inside his ass, it was suffice to say that he had other things in mind.

Junsang-hyung was nearly always the one in charge. He could not help but take control and be the monarch of every room he walked into; it was part of his character. There was always that edge in everything he did, in every touch, squeeze, thrust, smack—oh yes, spanking was a particular favourite of his, and Kyuhyun never complained having some (or many) rained down on his ass, so they were beautifully compatible that way. But he never lingered afterwards, content with taking what he wanted and leaving it at that.

Gunmyung-hyung was different. He had the most amazing mouth and he used it generously—in every way. With him, lewd words were as much an instrument to tease as a skilful tongue. His fingers walked playful lines here and there, along his thighs, across his chest, down the curve of his cock, until Kyuhyun went mad with desire and was begging for release. Once, he spent hours holding him at the brink, tongue on slit, thumb teasing at a twitching entrance. Kyuhyun scraped his pride dry screaming and begging until he lost his voice the next day.

Kijoon-hyung, however, was Kijoon-hyung. He was a firm anchor. A mediator of balance. A safe haven when Kyuhyun felt much too overwhelmed being the object of desire of three men at once. His caresses, when they came, were firm, full of intent, guided by a sure purpose. He carried the same intensity through everything: when they touched, when they kissed, when they fucked. It nailed him breathless, made his heart stutter, and when the heat of his length finally breached him, Kyuhyun almost felt like he could understand why he was doing this.

The thing was, he never stopped to analyse himself. Kyuhyun knew that he had always been something of a slut—but three men at once? Over and over again?

Yeah, better leave it at that.  


  


**_End_**  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can already feel this growing into a monster...


	2. Behind Closed Doors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday, [bl4ckm4lice](http://archiveofourown.org/users/bl4ckm4lice/pseuds/bl4ckm4lice) :D

  
“Couldn’t you guys at least lock the damn door?”

“This is your changing room today,” Gunmyung replied airily from between Kyuhyun’s generously spread legs. “Doubt anyone would try to barge in.”

Junsang conceded the point but also knew better than to ignore the voice of caution in his head. Only after the locks had safely slid into place that he allowed himself to observe the sight in front of him in its full glory.

Kyuhyun was always a sight to behold and never more so than when he submitted, helpless, at the height of passion. He was sitting in the couch, naked, back propped against Kijoon’s chest and legs spread wide, with a vibrator nestled between his thighs. The beautiful flush on his cheeks deepened when their eyes met, but any attempt of speech was neatly barred by a grape balanced between his plump limps.

“Hold it.” Kijoon’s startlingly deep voice cut through the silence, his grip around Kyuhyun’s wrists tightening. Kyuhyun made a soft noise of protest, but all it earned him was a warning pinch on the nipple. “Hold it there or we won’t let you come.”

“Listen to him, Kyuhyun-ah.” Gunmyung, as usual, was gleeful. Irreverently so. His mirth only heightened when Kyuhyun’s protest simmered down to a whining sob.

Junsang felt the violent response his body made in the face of such a delectable picture. He entertained a moment's notion of him fucking that mouth hard and fast, but common sense was quick to step in and destroy any further daydreaming. The next show was in two hours—and Kyuhyun was Philip. They definitely could not risk his throat.

“Who brought the grapes?” Junsang queried, an obvious effort to distract himself with completely unrelated trivialities.

“Came with the food support for maknae-ah,” was Gunmyung’s distracted reply, most of his attention focused in holding Kyuhyun’s legs down and teasing his twitching length at the same time. “And it's a useful gag to stop him from straining his voice too much.” 

“You’re all crazy,” Junsang declared darkly.

Gunmyung grinned at him. “Wanna join in?”

“No, _thank you_. I’m not planning to perform with a boner tonight.”

“Why not? You always have the option to fuck him on stage.”

“Yeah, that would sell well with the audience,” Junsang muttered, unwilling to admit just how ridiculously tempting the idea was.

Until a small, muffled whine followed. It sounded suspiciously eager and very much like Kyuhyun that Junsang could only stare at him in stunned silence.

“See? He likes the idea,” Gunmyung pointed out with a delighted laugh, giving Kyuhyun’s cock a firm squeeze. The reaction was instantaneous and Kyuhyun spent the next five seconds or so thrashing under the other two men’s restraint.

“Be quiet,” Kijoon told him, voice stern. A pair of large, beseeching eyes was his answer and Junsang recognised, with no small amount of amusement, what Kijoon’s small scoff really meant. After all, no one really won against Kyuhyun. 

Junsang imagined himself in Kijoon’s place. He would’ve dragged it on for a few more minutes, savouring each painful second, perhaps even a few drops of tears. Kijoon, though, clearly had a different priority. Instead of milking the moment for all it’s worth, he let go one of Kyuhyun’s hands and pushed the grape into his waiting mouth.

“Swallow it,” he commanded. “Slowly.”

The three of them watched, entranced, as the fruit disappeared inside Kyuhyun’s mouth. The rest was a quick work of teeth and throat until the boy impatiently swallowed.

“Hyung, please…” His voice was raspy with lust, veering toward a sob. “Please…”

“The last one.” Kijoon took another grape (this one ridiculously large) and rubbed it across Kyuhyun’s lips. “If you do well, maybe we’ll let you come at last.”

Kyuhyun’s mouth readily fell open, but Kijoon’s hand withdrew just as quickly. Junsang felt his mouth go dry when he realised that Kijoon was looking at him, a smirk on his face. 

“Perhaps you’ll do the honour?”

It only took him one heartbeat, maybe two, to hesitate. The grape was cool and firm between his thumb and forefinger, and Junsang allowed himself to consider no less than thirteen different scenarios, dismissing them just as quickly they came for each would lead to more dangerous sequels. 

“Convince me,” he finally said, the fruit hovering inches above Kyuhyun’s lips. An eager tongue answered his challenge, swiping past the fruit to lick around his digits, dipping into the inside of a crooked finger, the crease of his skin. A moan trembled around his thumb when Gunmyung pushed the vibrator deeper and Junsang felt his breatch catch, his cock twitch, his fingers let go. 

The fruit settled, secure, between red, plump lips. There was something like triumph in Kyuhyun’s expression then; Junsang was tempted wipe it out—someway, somehow—but Gunmyung was quicker. The vibrator’s setting hit max and Kyuhyun was screaming behind the fruit, screamed the way it made him ache with desire and all the tangled rope of responsibility that bound it tight. Then Kyuhyun was coming, back arched, muscles strained, eyes squeezed tightly shut as he painted his chest and stomach with long spurts of come. 

The grape, Junsang couldn't help but notice, even against the insistent throb in his cock, remained where it had been. 

He took a deep, quivering breath to steady himself. His fingers were (thankfully) steady enough when he reached down to pluck the grape out—he felt strangely pleased that it was still intact—and tilt Kyuhyun’s chin up. 

“Prepare yourself after the show,” he ordered, meeting the boy’s glazed eyes. “We’re going to fuck you so hard until you can’t scream anymore.”

Kyuhyun’s lazy, sated smile was all the answer he needed.

 

**_End  
_ **


End file.
